Only in death are we truly free
by mpmadfish
Summary: White collar with supernatural bits. Neal was in the business but quit before meeting Kate. Now he is doubting his purpose, minor character death. What happens when a hunt comes into Neals radius? How will Neal deal with his secrets being revealed to the team. What will Peter do? Please read first ever fic. Contains suicidal and self harm themes
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Hi everyone! Ready, brace yourselves. I know everyone says this but this is my first ever fanfic. Although it is White collar mainly it drifts ito supernatural as, well there is no excuse but saying supernatural is awesome! Please comment and review to let me know what you think!

Do it. Do it right. Do it with a smile or don't bother. That's what Neal had been doing. Frank Devereaux was a paranoid bastard but he gave good advice and knew his stuff…When he didn't believe the whole government was out to get him. But Neal was done with faking it... Being professional, making himself smile because you're alive and it's your job, then doing it again the next week.

He sat, legs dangling off the edge of the building, blood from his slit wrist poetically draining from him, running down the face of the building like tears down cheeks. Ironically, as he was dying, he never felt more alive, fresh air flooding his lungs, no longer trapped by day to day routine. However, he didn't have long. He could already feel the deep allurement of the dark abyss, the nothingness calling him to just give in, no longer having to worry.

That's what he wanted. Yet, at the back of his mind, he knew he didn't have long till Peter and the team would inevitably track him down. He knew that if they got here to soon they would try to save him, no matter what they thought of him after the last few weeks. He didn't want their pity. He didn't want them saving him because of their misguided sense of doing what's right. He didn't want it, he didn't want them. He was done. No more faking. He made his choice. No more doing it with a smile.

Two weeks earlier...

Damn. Just damn. Neal slammed down to phone, throwing it across the room and running his fingers angrily through his rugged hair as he staring at his reflection in the mirror. An old contact had just called. Frank had been found, well not all of him, much of his blood splattered around his small portable home's walls. Police saying it was an animal attack. The door ripped off its hinges and being parked in grizzly bear territory. It was an open shut case.

But, to anyone in the "know", it was obvious. Frank had been pushing the Leviathans for a long time and now they pushed back, finding him through an alias HE created. HIM. But worst of all he could do nothing about it, stuck on what seemed to be a stupidly short leash. Stupid, stupid ankle monitor. Stupid. This is how he repaid Frank.

The phone started buzzing, pulling him from his chain of thoughts, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. Even without looking he knew it would be Peter calling to move his ** along. He never called this early to urge him in. Obviously they had a case. He would deal with this later. Not that he could do anything. Turning around to leave, his eye caught his reflection in the mirror. Hatred raised its ugly head, staring deep into his eyes. Nothing. There was nothing. Numbness, making him even angrier he punched to mirror, shattering it but not completely falling out. Just showing him what he already saw. His broken reflection.

Neal straightened his suit and slicking back his hair. He observed his hand while composing his face. He would sort his hand later. He picked up his phone and walking to the door, remembering one of Frank's sayings. 'Do it right and do it with a smile.' But then again a thought crossed his mind. Only in death are we truly free.

END


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Neal walked into the FBI headquarter, flashing a signature Neal Caffrey smile. To anyone, he looked perfectly fine, not showing his inner feelings. He, after all, was a con man. Making people think he was alright if he wanted was in the job description. Although he hated lying to Peter, it wasn't like he hadn't lied to him in the past. After all, his dad wasn't just a dirty cop but Peter didn't need to know about that.

One of the first things Bobby and Frank taught him about being a hunter and a conman. Give no one leverage over you. But that was when he was a hunter and they were both alive, both of which were no longer true. It was easy to say not many monster attacks, hauntings or possessions happen in his little world consisting of a two mile radius.

No. He wasn't directly in the business but now and again he would make fake IDs for hunters. When he was really, really bored he would find hunts and send people on them. He didn't need Peter, Jones or Diana finding out about his other activities as they would natural want to be involved, and that's how people die, by getting involved, by trying to help him. Emphasis on the trying part as they hadn't been trained like him.

That's why he had become a conman. It was significantly less stressful. Police and other agencies were a lot incompetent than demons and shifter but to name a couple. He had seen what happened to those who got involved with hunters, like Jessica, a friends girlfriend, murdered by a demon. He knew the pain, and didn't want to feel it again. Bobby and Frank getting killed was a harsh reminder of Kate. Although she hadn't been killed by any supernatural cause it was, at the end of the day, his fault.

But Peter didn't need to know about all that. He was a good man and Neal had gotten more than a few good men killed in the past. Plus being a conman and getting caught meant spending a lot less time in prison than being a hunter and getting accused of grave desecration, assault of police officers, arson, murder, the list is long. Although he helped people in a more life and death way then, he finally found a way to help people again. Finally he was in a good place or so he thought.

"Earth to Neal." Hollered Dina from the conference room, "We have a case."

Great, Neal thought silently sighing. He needed a distraction or he would go stir crazy.

The case as it turns out was about a series of bank robberies but nothing had been stolen as all money had already disappear, meaning the robberies were just a cover. There was nothing connecting the robberies. It was a one man job and, each time, the robber was caught on CCTV. The suspect was later found dead in their homes, looking like suicide but could, if you thought outside the box, be murder.

Although something like this would usually excite Neal, today he was bored. He sat, watching the CCTV footage being shown. Neal would have continued to be bored but he nearly jumped out his skin when he saw a flare up in the suspect's eyes on camera. No one else seeming to notice it. Dread filled him. He should have known from the description of the jump. It had to be a shifter. Oh god. No. He didn't want or need a job. But with hunters thin on the ground and in hiding due to the Leviathans, and Sam and Dean being wanted nationwide, they would get involved if the FBI had only just picked up the case.

He would have to do it. This was just the thing he was trying to avoid. Holding his head in his hands, he needed to find the pattern predict the next move. Without the camera flare, he would have never have guessed shifter. A shifter would have taken the money and done a lot more damage. Shifters don't worry about doing clean jobs. After all, they could just change their face the next day.

But this pattern was not a typical shifter. This was someone using a shifter, making him more suspicious than usual. He had a long list of enemies, not only from being a hunter but from being a con man too. Many people he knew had fingers dipped in lots of pies, none free of blood. There were a million reasons why someone would be gunning for him.

He was getting ahead of himself, seeing conspiracies everywhere, like Mozzie. He didn't even know that it was. But until he had proof, he had to assume they were watching his every move. Be cautious. He would have to watch his back. He had gotten sloppy in his time since prison. Hell, he allowed a tracker to be put on his ankle! What hunter or conman in his right mind would let that happen? Just stop worrying, he thought. Just make sure the team is out the firing line when he lines up his shot, which he knew he would have to do.

"Neal, wake up!" Peter shouted, "I said, what do you think? Anything or was you busy daydreaming?"

"Erm...I didn't sleep well." Not a complete lie.

He had slept well by normal people standards in years, months by his freakish standards. Nightmares, as usual, were plaguing his dreams, like a seven year old girl, a part of him sniped.

"What was it you were saying?" Neal asked.

"For those who obviously feel they don't need to listen, we have been asked to get this over as fast as possible. It screams inside job, but the banks are all different companies that have multiple branches throughout the city. None of the banks' other branches have been hit. The only similarity is that the banks are all in 1.2km of each other. Any ideas?" Peter said.

Diana and Clinton came up with some nearly plausible ideas but nothing close to the truth, talking about indoctrination and gangs.

"Come on, time for a visit to the banks." said Peter

END

Well, how was it? What did you think? A big thank to all my followers and people who ave favourited this story. Please the more reviews te better i write. So if anyone in the big wide worl like this, please, you know what to do!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
Awkward was one way to describe the car journey. As Diana needed to collect some files, Jones volunteering to ride with her, so it was just Neal and Peter. Peter let out an uneasy breath, about to try and salvage a conversion with Neal before glancing at him. It wasn't just the car journey that had been awkward lately. Neal was pulling away from him. They were meant to be partners, until a few weeks ago. Peter thought he knew what Neal was thinking, what was going on in his freaky little head of his.

To be truthful, Peter was worried. Neal was getting paler every day, losing weight. His eyes were getting heavy bags under them, losing their spark. What worried him even more was the bandaged hand he had turned up with today and the fact he started constantly wearing long sleeves, not rolling them up at all, no matter what the heat. He had seen some scars there before. Neal obviously didn't care about them and they were a few years old, so it wasn't a reason to hide them now. There had to be a story but Neal didn't want to share it with Peter.

Although it hurt, Peter would wait for him and be a good friend, try to lift some weight off his burdened slouched posture. But every time he had the courage to talk to Neal he would just avoid the question. Thankfully they had got to the bank quicker than they thought, cutting the tension.  
"Hi, I'm Ben Harris, the bank manager here." Said a short man in his early fifties.  
Neal gave him a once over. Married, roughly for twenty years but the love had ended at least five years ago. He has two children at least but all have grown up and moved away. He likes baseball and most of all, despite the smiling exterior, he hated his job. Probably thinking how much he hated it right now. Neal had always been good at reading people. Even in his current situation this guy was an open book.  
Looking round the bank, there was nothing special. Exactly what the report had said. This wasn't the work of and ordinary shifter. It was squeaky clean, nothing. All Neal found was a pile of its discarded skin. Disgusting but gave them no clue on where or who it was. The other banks were all the same. Boring. After a few hours of looking around, Neal was getting desperate, not only for a slight clue but for his knife.

He told himself he wasn't addicted to cutting himself but he knew deep down he was. It felt beyond good, the pain stabilized him, woke him up. It was getting ridiculous though recently he would be waking up in the night craving for the pain. He had tried all sorts of drugs for a while and now and again still shot up but nothing had this effect. It was a lot more likely he would get caught be Peter on a high. Even an idiot could tell. Anyway, he needed to make some more cuts, his arms were a mess but he didn't care. He had many scars from hunting what's a few more.  
"Agents." A none descript cop shouted, "We have something."  
He led them into the cellar. "As you know in one of the robberies, a guard managed to get a shot off, we started to looked for a blood trail and found one, leading down a storm drain into the sewers."

The sewers, of course. It was the perfect environment for a shape shifter, and a link between all the banks. He was so stupid. Now that was shifter behavior. Some friends had hunted down a shifter in a series of bank robberies a few years ago. That one had used the same get away method. There was one more bank on the same system, Neal worked out quickly. He glanced at Peter. He was on the phone with Elizabeth. No one would care if he went now anyway, it was late, they would go to the next bank tomorrow. He walked off, tipping his hat to the police officers at the door telling them to let agent Burke know he had gone home.

"I can't believe him El. He just walked away from the scene, leaving to officers to tell me. I don't know what's with him lately." Peter moaned to El.  
It was half past nine. Peter had left the crime scene an hour ago, after finding Neal had deserted him. It was thundering outside, the hot, dirty weather had broken and the heavens opened. Currently Peter was watching the tracker from Neal's anklet for the past forty minute. The dot showed Neal pacing the borders of his radius continuously without a stop.  
"I mean seriously, I thought we were friends after all we have been through together, but now I don't know." He continued.  
"Peter calm down. I'm sure he will tell you whatever's up eventually. Just give him space and a supporting hand." El said as calm as ever.  
"I know. I know." Peter sighed " Thanks, hun."  
He smiled at his wife, thinking about Neal. He kissed his wife then ran out the door.

Neal was soaked to the bone. It was surprisingly quiet with little to any people venturing out, running from shelter to shelter, but not Neal. He flicked his hair out his eyes, deep in thought with no one to interrupt him. His long, black sleeve t-shirt clung to his lean form, his jeans heavy with water. The bandages on his forearms needed changing, so wet they served no purpose.  
Earlier, he had used his old knife to make the cuts, going deeper than usual, so deep his fingers began to tingle. He should have probably put some stitches in them. But he didn't care, he didn't care about anything. That's probably why he cut so deep, just so he could feel something. The rain came down like bullets, not that it mattered he felt nothing anyway. He had been pacing the border for hours, trying to think of a plan, a way to deal with this without any attention.

Even though all the banks are in his radius, it would still arouse suspicion from the team, and there would be a dead shifter to dispose of. It wasn't like he could skip town like usual hunts. He would need to find a way to trick the anklet. He thought he could trick the anklet, hack it in a way, but he felt like he was betraying Peter. He wanted so much to be honest with him about who he was, but he knew there was no going back once you learnt the truth. He even said he had didn't do violence. In truth, he was better with guns and knives than any agent he was ever met. But if Peter knew he would ask questions, questions that couldn't be answered with his known criminal history.  
In fact, he had a pretty impressive weapons collection if he said so himself, and of course most of its illegal, even by his standards. He was so deep in thought, he didn't even notice Peter pull up next to him. He only realized it when a hand landed on his shoulder. Instinct kicked in. He whirled round, twisting the attackers arm, ready to dislocate it at a moment's notice.  
"Wow, Neal slow down! It's Peter! God, where did you learn that?" Peter rambled quickly.  
The look he had seen on Neal's face went beyond freakish, it was scary. It was like nothing he had seen on him before. It was cold, calculating, like a predator.  
"Well, errr, how else do you think I survived for years?" Neal replied quickly.  
"Cut the crap Neal. I know when something's up with you. Talk to me, you can trust me. The way you've been acting lately, it insane I kno-" stopping mid-sentence, "What's that on your arm?"  
Neal ignored him, looking down, avoiding his eyes.  
"Neal... Neal. Fine if you won't talk at least let me wrap it up again. Come on get in the car. Let's get out of the rain. You're soaked to the bone." Peter pleaded.  
Neal backed away. Peter would not just over react but go insane at him for doing something so stupid. But Neal knew Peter is similar to a terrier, the way he would never let anything go. Before Neal knew, Peter was manhandling him into the car, attempting to remove the bandages on Neal's arms.  
"God Neal, how did this happen... What did you do?" Peter said, his voice full of emotion, but to Neal it just sounded like pity. He hated pity.

"You know what Peter? It's none of your business!" Shouting the last part while climbing out the car and slamming to door, making the whole car shake. Something in Peter snapped.  
"You know what?" Also climbing out the car, "I have tried to be open and get you to share, and you give nothing in return. Without me, you would still be rotting in jail?"  
"Better people saying you are in a cage than lying about it, giving you a glimmer of hope before smashing it down!" Neal nearly screamed at him, great over reacting always shows you're fine.  
"What?! You can trust me Neal, how many time do I have to tell you!" Peter replied.  
"Really trust you. You don't see grey, Peter. You see black and white, nothing else. I've done things Peter, bad things to save good people more than once. You say I can trust you, but really why don't you put a little trust in me for once, just once. You treat me like a bomb ready to blow!" Neal was ranting. He stopped to catch his breath, burying the pain of arguing with Peter. In truth, he did but not with everything.  
"Well, Neal maybe I am done giving you chances to talk" Turning round and getting into the car, "I thought we were more than partners. I thought we were friends, obviously I was wrong."  
He drove away. Neal was left standing in the rain, stunned by Peter's last comeback, cutting deeper than any knife could. Walking away, head held high, he knew once and for all he was in this alone, just like he had been for years. He wiped the tear off his cheek, and did not look back.  
Little did they know, watching them, was a shadow grinning at their every move. And he knew just what form to take. It backed away into the sewer, just before it bones started to break and reform into the perfect person for the job.  
END


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It was twelve hours after the argument with Peter. Neal's watch told him it was time to go the work, but he had no intention of doing so. After the argument, Neal had returned to June's and disconnected the anklet. It would just show his position as at home. It wasn't that hard, after all, spending years with a brilliant computer genius, he had picked up a few things. For that, he silently thanked Frank. Then he had gone to a container, near the dock, rented out by a fake alias, of course.

Sometimes he was thankful he had kept a few guns, knives and weapons around just in case. After all, hunters were known for being suspicious. Since then, he had spent the night fruitlessly searching the sewers for any sign of the shifter, silver knife and a gun filled with silver bullets tucked in his waist band. Sighing, he trudged back to June's place, knowing the longer he look the finding the shifter, the more people died, and the longer he had to play hunter.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap. Neal swung round to the sound of the ever increasing tapping. Turning the corner, gun in hand, Neal walk straight into him and abruptly fell to the ground. HIM! Looking up to a mirror reflection of himself.

"It feels good, you know. Your image... just fits me. No other way to put it. It sounds out to you, no matter how many faces you have worn to fit your needs." The doppelgänger laughed while running his blood covered fingers against the pipes on th wall, tapping his finger nails in an eerie fashion

"No no no no." Neal exclaimed.

"Yes, yes, yes we are going to have soooo much fun together." It sneered bending down, whispering in his ear.

The replica grabbed Neal's head hitting it against the wall knocking him out stone cold before dragging him deeper into the sewers.

Peter crouched by the body. The robberies had finally turned bloody. Although this was a high tech jewelry store rather than a bank, the security guard was probably in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was violent to say the least, not like the teams usual crimes. The guard was spread around the room, but the killer left no prints. It was squeaky clean just like the rest. Another boring day AND Caffrey didn't show up. He expected him to turn up late and be awkward, but not turning up in the middle of a case, that was not Neal.

"Peter" Jones called, "Lets head back. There is nothing we can do here. They'll be wanting to clean up soon."

"Yeah sure." signing again walking out to car, wishing again he could just make up with Neal, so he could help them in this mess.

"You may not want to do that, guys." Diana interrupted, "I have been going through the CCTV footage for the last few weeks and found this from yesterday, say half hour, from the time they said it happened. We looked through the employees logs and the last customer was a Henry Hamilton turns out fake name so we looked at the camera footage and saw this."

All said in one long breath. Not good if Diana was panicking. Watching the footage, a man in a sharply tailored suit and hat walked by the camera, walk doesn't really do the man justice. It was a walk of confidence, smugness. A walk that said he was superior to everyone else. The majority of the man's face was hidden but as the man passed by the camera, he tipped his hat in recognition, flashing a smile, a Neal goddamn Caffrey signature smile.

To anyone else, it was no real evidence. It wouldn't hold up in an interrogation, no way. But to Peter, Jones, and Diana, it was painfully obvious. It was Neal. It was Neal. It was Neal! His mind screamed.

"Diana, pull up his anklet records. Let's go have a little talk. Let's keep this between just us three. No one else needs to know." Peter said with authority and confidence, such that he didn't feel inside.

Inside he was panicking, thinking of all the bank jobs, tying each clue to Neal in his mind. It was obvious now. Who had the skills to pull this off? Who had been doing it right under his nose! How did he not notice? He had no clue about the other robbery suspect murders or the security guard. Not Neal's MO, but then again he trusted him. What else had Neal hid from him? Either way, he and Neal had a long talk due.

~~~~~~~~~~~~?~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
So people what do you think? Love it? Hate it? A MASSIVE thank you to all the favorites and follows! Keep reviewing favoriting and following and I will keep on writing! A massive thank you to Bloody-Destination for betaing my story!


	5. Chapter 5

Hi everyone! Sorry for the long wait inbetween updates. Hope you all like the story. Let me know if you have anything to say about it, good or bad. Thanks to everyone out there who has favourited or followed this story and a massive thank you to bloody-destination who ahs beta'd these chapters and put up with all my rubbuish spelling!

The shifter looked around the apartment. Wow, this hunter, ex-hunter, had landed on his feet. He didn't know what he had going for him. He had some interesting qualities that the people around him took advantage of. His head was complete screwed though. The bats had flown the belfry a long time ago. As he took Neal's form he noticed the self-harm scars on the wrists, some quite fresh and deep, the track marks, the suicidal thoughts, but nothing he couldn't deal with.

The real Neal lay tied up, beaten and unconscious in the sewer below. His next and last target, before he skipped town, would make it more convenient to kill Neal and make a clean get away, just like he had been told to do. Of course he was planning to wait to kill Neal till after all his thoughts had been "downloaded" obviously. But for now he just had to wait. A thought at the back of Neal's mind told him that someone was coming looking for him but he didn't care and they wouldn't be able to stop him either, a Peter Burke maybe?

Shrugging the shifter poured himself a glass of wine and flopped on the sofa planning to relax, maybe sleep for a few hours before going to the next branch. The jewelry store had been a waste of time but he needed to break the trend and get this face flashed somewhere. There was one problem the bloody fool wore an anklet tracking device. Although Neal had already hacked it, the shifter had near broken his foot to get it off, he didn't want anyone ruining his plan and finding Neal too early. The anklet on the shifters foot was just for show, in case anyone noticed it. But for now the shifter didn't care, until there was a knock at the door.

Anxious was an understatement, so was furious. It took all Peter's control just to keep from kicking Neal's door down in front of Diana and Jones. How could Neal do this?! Peter thought he had changed. Obviously Neal had been conning them all. His thoughts were interrupted when the door opened. Neal stood there looking about as good as last night, but this time the bandages were off. The short sleeved shirts showing what Peter has dreaded to see last night, cuts and old injection sites littering his arms. But the worst thing is Neal stared at the trio with a blank face before breaking out into a creepy smile, like the joke was on them but only he knew.

"Well well well, now to whom do I owe the honor of this little visit?" Neal smirked at their presence. Peter stormed into the apartment without replying.

"What do you think you are playing at?" Peter practically screamed at him, shocking the team, causing Neal to raise an eyebrow, "Robbing a jewelry store, killing a man!"

God, the shifter thought. He knew the FBI was fast but that fast. The body had only been found a couple of hours ago. He left no evidence, none what so ever. However, he didn't have time to play games. He had a job to do, the last robbery, tonight. No interruptions will be tolerated. In a few hours the bank will be robbed, the original Neal would be dead, and he would be gone in the wind with a lovely new face.

"Me, I've been here all night, the tracker will prove it. How could I have killed someone?!" The shifter exclaimed, trying to seem genuine.

"Oh don't lie to us, Neal!" Peter snapped.

"Lie? I'm not lying. What have I ever done for you to have such little faith in me?" The shifter replied with equal venom, shocking him-self. The Neal in the sewers had been holding back his feelings for a long time, letting them boil over.

"Do you want me to list the reasons alphabetically or chronologically?" Peter replied. Jones attempted to calm Peter by putting a hand on his shoulder before Peter violently jerked it off.

He didn't need this hassle the shifter thought. He needed to prepare for tonight's job and his leave from the city.

"Fine!" The shifter spun round and shouted shocking the team, "You know what? You don't trust me. You obviously don't need me. I am sick of having to lose everything. But now I have nothing left to lose, so just leave me alone and take this with you." He letting slip an eerie smile. The team stood there shocked.

"You're more pain than your worth anyway." Peter said so low it was a whisper before picking up Neal's criminal consultant badge and walking out. Diana and Jones stood there a moment before turning around to follow Peter, shutting the door behind them.

The shifter waited till he heard them drive away in the car they arrived in before smiling to himself, pouring a glass of wine and looking round the apartment. He had plans. He had a job to finish. Rubbing his hands, he began to make his preparations.

END


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

They had been at the bank for two hours now, searching for any sign of the robber. After leaving Neal's, Peter had dragged the team back to the FBI HQ. Diana was ready to throw the files out the window when Jones made a vague pattern between the banks. This was the third bank the team had searched since then that may fit the pattern. It was painfully slow progress without Neal, but it was the banter that Diana missed most. The whole team now felt heavy hearted.

They had been here so long it had grown dark outside; Diana noticed when she returned with coffee for the trio. She was walking a corridor leading deep into the bank to where the team had set up when she heard a thunk. Diana stopped dead, before shaking her head, thinking this paranoia is just from caffeine deprivation.

She turned the corner leading to the direction of the noise when on the floor was a security guard. His head set at an almost 180 degree angle, a silent scream frozen on his face. Diana dropped the coffees and grabbed her cell, just before she was thrown into a wall, a hand clamped over her mouth with the other crushing her phone. She looked into the eyes of her attacker, no other than Neal Caffrey, a gruesome smile twisting on his face.

"Well hi there Diana. Nothing personal, but I can't let you go running to Peter, now can I?" Neal whispered ignoring her struggles "Again nothing personal." He said comforting before Diana blacked out.

?

Peter looked at his watch. Diana had been gone over forty minutes. A long time to walk to the coffee shop located just on the corner of the bank. He had sent Jones after her a few minutes ago. Just thinking to himself it was nothing, Jones rang his cell.

"Peter, Diana's in trouble. I'm looking at the crumpled remains of her cell on the floor." Jones almost shouted down the line in a panicked voice

"What! Lock down the bank! Now!" Shouting to the other agents around him.

?

Peter awoke in the dark, releasing his hands were tied behind his back, legs bound to some pipe. "Jones, Diana... Anyone?" Peter tried to shout in a hoarse voice think back to what had happened

(Flashback)

Jones and Peter reached the open vault, walking in.

"Nothing? Damn we must have missed him." Jones exclaimed

"Not quite." A familiar voice piped up from behind Jones slamming him into the wall, letting the unconscious body slide to the ground, "Hi Peter, so glad you could join me." Neal smiled brightly

"Neal?" Peter gasped.

"The one and only. Well, just about." Neal said, dropping his voice to a serious tone before knocking Peter out.

(End of Flashback)

"And at last he joins the living." Neal joked before answering his ringing phone, walking out of the room, holding up a finger indicating he would only be a minute.

"Peter, what's happening? Is it really Neal?" Diana asked, struggling against her bonds, a massive bruise developing on her forehead.

"Diana, what happened to you? Neal jumped us in the vault." Peter nearly growled.

"I found him in a corridor with a dead guard. He crushed my cell and knocked me out." Diana said, annoyance clear in her voice.

"I can't believe Neal would do this." Jones muttered as Neal walked back through the door.

"Everyone caught up now? Good. I would hate for someone to miss something out." Neal said sarcastically.

"Neal, why are you doing this? I had thought you changed. Look we are friends let's talk. Why are you robbing places and killing people?" Peter asked, getting angrier by the minute.

"I'm not, Peter." Said a voice from the door way. Everyone turned to see who it was, not expecting what they saw.

Hi all! Thank you to my beta, bloody-destination and everyone who has favourited and followed this story. Please review. Let me know whether its good or bad!


	7. Chapter 7

Hi people! Really sorry such a long time between updates! Been really busy with exams and rubbish! But I'm back. WARNING! Please don't review telling me nothing matches up to actual White collar or Supernatural, I am using the stories as BASIC story lines but I am changing a lot and making stuff up. Thanks for being patient and please review! :)

A battered, near broken man, stood in the door way. Bruises littered the exhausted body as he supported himself with his shoulder against the door frame. Beaten, tortured and barely standing upright. But most importantly, Neal Caffrey was pointing a gun at the other Neal Caffrey who stood over Peter.

"What on earth?" Diana whispered.

"Ooh, glad you could make the show! I have to say, I was getting worried you weren't going to turn up." The other Neal sneered, "I was just having an interesting chat with your little friends here. Compared your past records, I'm surprised they lasted this long to be honest."

"Shut up." The beaten Caffrey whispered dangerously moving closer to his doppelgänger.

"You... I mean we are losing our touch, took you far too long to recognize the pattern. Getting soft? Yet another disappointment."

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Neal screamed pushing the gun to his forehead.

Ignoring him, the copy carried on mocking Neal, forgotten about the agents tied up, "That's just you all over Neal, letting everyone down, Kate, Bobby, Frank. You couldn't even save your own family. Your pathetic. You see I know what you think of yourself. I know your nightmares. I know everything about you and you hate yourself. So much. You have no problem pulling the trigger at your own head, let's have some fun. What about your little sister?"

As the copy finished its sentence it started to change, bones breaking, ripping its own skin off. It didn't finish. Without so much as blinking, Neal pulled the trigger. The bullet ripping through the air into the deform face. The lifeless body fell to the floor, no movement. Neal's legs gave way from under him, almost collapsing on top of the corpse. Slipping into unconsciousness.

"Neal" Peter shouted quickly untying the rest of his bonds and the other two agents, "Diana get help!" Peter ordered before returning the Neal " Jones help me stop the bleeding, he's fading fast".

After that Peter didn't remember much. He remember Diana returning with a medical team and pushing him out the way. He remember going with Neal to the hospital in the ambulance and since then sitting in some bland white corridor, blood stained hands and shirt, everything was a bit of a blur. At some point Elizabeth had arrived. Diana was being treated for a concussion and Jones had been sent home after having a wound stitched up.

"Peter Burke, friend of Neal Caffrey?" A young doctor called down the corridor before spotting him, pacing to him while pushing his glass up his nose repeatedly like a nervous twitch.

Both Peter and Elizabeth jumped up towards the doctor looking expectedly for hope. The doctor was uncomfortable to say the least.

"There's good news and bad news, good news he'll probably make it, we have him stable in intensive care after emergency surgery. Bad news, he's in real bad shape. He had internal bleeding, dislocated knee cap, shattered shoulder bone, fractured collar bone, six broken ribs, bruised lung, and needed over a hundred stitches for various cuts and wounds as well as over a liter of blood. He'll need a lot of support but he's strong and we believe he can make a good recovery." The doctor rambled off in one long monologue without waiting for any response, "He's still asleep at the minute, most likely due to extreme exhaustion but you can visit him if you'd like".

Without even answering Peter rushed into the room to see a man who was barely recognizable, the majority of visible skin was bandaged or bruised. A tube for breathing was down his throat and many wires were attached to his arms and chest. The nurse in the room placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"It may look bad, but he will get better." she whispered, "I have to ask though, we found extensive scar tissue some over ten years old, some quite recent. Do you know the circumstance for these, there were none on his medical records." she asked politely.

"I-I-I don't know... I mean no, he hasn't said anything. Sorry." Peter stammered in shock. How many secrets did Neal have? All Peter knew was Neal had a lot of explaining to do.

END


End file.
